The Cards You're Dealt
by Lady Henrietta
Summary: Aftermath of the episode "Revelations," season 4: Sometimes you have to roll a hard six. Other times you have to play the cards you're dealt.


Disclaimer: Battlestar Galactica belongs to Ronald D. Moore and the Sci-Fi channel.

The Cards You're Dealt

Gray. Gray and deathly black were the colors of the world they had brought their people to. As the president and the admiral, as Laura and Bill, stood together, they looked out on the barren wasteland of what had only minutes ago seemed so promising. Both stood silently, watching with horror as their hands linked for some sort of support.

"This has got to be some sort of mistake," Roslin said, breaking the long silence.

Adama sighed heavily, taking in the acrid taste of the air. "So this is what the end looks like. This is the end of humanity. And this is going to be the end of our people."

She gripped his hand tighter. Regret was something she could deal with, regret about time lost trying to get to Earth, regret over some of the decisions she had been forced to make over the last few years. But disappointment was an entirely different matter. To have something that they had collectively worked so hard for to fall so short of expectations was more than disappointing: it was crushing.

As she looked at the people around her, Cylons and humans alike, they wandered through the twisted ruins in a daze. The ticking from the device registering the levels of radioactivity around them was another reminder of how wrong the place felt. Kara approached her. The young captain sighed and glanced over her shoulder at Lee Adama before facing Laura.

"Madame President, I… I'm sorry. It's not what it should be. I can't explain it, but it's… this isn't…" Kara stammered.

"We know," Roslin replied, not 'I' but 'we.'

The blonde woman's head drooped again as she walked back toward Lee. Roslin pulled the jacket closer around her with her free hand. Adama watched each person pensively, from Caprica Six and Saul to D'Anna. She could see it clearly in his eyes: the pain and the betrayal. The things he had trusted the most had betrayed him. She had to draw him out of it somehow.

"Bill," she said. He did not move and she tried again. "Bill, let's go. I know it's not nearly what either of us would have wanted, but it's what we've been dealt."

He still did not face her. "After everything we've been through, my getting shot, your cancer, New Caprica, Saul, after all that, we're stuck with this."

She stepped in front of him and put a hand on his chest. "Stop this. Let's just go home."

Resting one of his hands over hers, he sighed heavily. "Alright. We can go."

The Raptor was silent as they made their way back to _Galactica_. As they docked, Roslin decided that she had been quiet long enough. "What are we going to tell them, Bill?"

His brow furrowed. "That their leaders were fools and that the universe has a rotten sense of humor. Their 'promised land' is nothing more than an echo of the decimation they've been running from."

_Obviously he's not in the mood to save face that day and try to make a good impression today_. "I'll tell them that we're still looking for more data."

They exited the shuttle greeted by a small crowd. Somehow damage control had to be established, and quickly. Adama took one look at everyone and headed off in the direction of his quarters. Roslin noticed the worried whispers and addressed the people. "I can't tell you much because we are still trying to assemble recon missions. However, what I can tell you is that the place must be thoroughly studied before any more landing parties go down." She hurried to catch up with the admiral before anyone could ask her questions.

Coming back to his, or rather their quarters, he locked the hatch behind them. Then he walked over to the bottle of Ambrosia and poured himself a glass before offering her one, to which she nodded. After handing her a glass, he slumped onto the couch. She joined him, taking a few sips of the alcohol. The sting in the drink could not burn away the desolate image of Earth though as she set the glass down on the coffee table.

Adama stared at the glass in his hand, watching as the gold liquid swished around. "We've led them to their death."

Roslin narrowed her eyes and him and give him the 'ticked off teacher' glare. "Bill Adama, we don't know that for a fact. Have we finished scanning the planet? No. Have we even bothered to find out what else in the solar system just might support life, or even refugees? No. We know very little with regard to actual facts, Admiral."

He sighed heavily, looking back at her. "But we have to face the possibility that what we saw is it. People can't live down there; it's radioactive. And they can't stay on ships indefinitely either. We are facing a no-win scenario."

"How can you accept that?" she spat, crossing her arms.

"Because I know about death," he stated bluntly, his gaze moving out in front of him.

That did it. She had been irritated, but at that moment, she felt truly angry at his defeated attitude. "Are you telling me that I don't know about death?"

"I didn't say that," he counted.

She knelt on the couch, leaning on one knee, sliding both of her hands around his face to turn his head toward her. He stared at her, wide-eyed as she forced him to face her. "Look at me. Take a good long look." She then reached up with one hand and moved her wig enough to show him her bald scalp. Then she put the wig back into place. "This is what death looks like. I have to look at death every morning."

He tried to speak. "It's not the same-"

"Bullshit. Death will always be there. It's the one thing even more constant than our problems with the Cylons. But you can't just let it beat you. You have to fight back and grab life by the shirt!" she argued, only half realizing that her other hand had left his face and was gripping his jacket collar.

Faith and hope were precarious things sometimes. She knew that. They both did. Yet as her eyes met his, she understood his faith in her. "I'll fight back if you promise to do the same," his gravely ultimatum vibrated through her as she was nearly sitting in his lap.

"You told me once that I made you believe," she paused and smiled at him. "Well you know something Bill? You gave me hope."

So Earth was a bust. So the Cylons were now their allies. So the closest they would probably ever come to their cabin was the one around them at that very moment. None of it compared to her relief and joy at seeing him smile back. Grinning, she closed the scant distance between them and kissed him.

He returned the kiss, pulling her closer to him. Each found the other's jacket zipper. Still kissing, they stood and he began to guide her over to the rack, which she did not seem to mind. They find more zippers, and buttons too on their short trek past the desk. They collapsed onto his rack, seeking comfort in each other. At last sleep claimed them as they lay entangled in each other, both body and heart.

In the morning she woke to an empty indentation where he had been. She glanced over to see a light on in the bathroom. Wrapping a blanket around herself, she entered the room to find him rinsing off the razor after having shaved. "You let me sleep in," she remarked.

"So I did. You can have the shower if you want," he responded.

She smiled warmly, looking from him to the mirror. Cracks spread across it like veins, complete with a small amount of dried blood from the point where his fist had made contact. In one of the larger slices of it, she noticed that she had left the wig on. Taking a moment, she finger-combed it. When she had finished, the turned back to him and realized that he had been watching her.

"What?" she asked.

He smirked. "I wonder what the Quorum would think if they could see you, standing in my quarters, wearing nothing but a blanket."

She giggled and shook her head. "Bill Adama, you'd better stop now. I can almost hear a lewd suggestion in that comment. By the way, you should really stop abusing your poor mirror. I mean, what did it ever do to you?"

Glancing at the mess his mirror had become, he snorted. "There are worse things to break. I guess for you though it won't be easy to get ready in the morning with your reflection in pieces."

Securing the blanket around her, she smiled and hugged him. He wrapped his arms around her and she glanced at their reflection. She did not see one broken reflection, but rather several smaller ones, all of the same thing: them standing together. "Bill, it doesn't matter how fractured things look. We're going to handle it together."

Having nothing better to add to her statement, he simply kissed her.

Fin………………..


End file.
